The Exit
by minky54333
Summary: When the glamorous city girl Lucy Vahn comes to town, she takes on not only Massie and the Pretty Committee's wrath, but also avoid being found by the hitman who killed her mother. Rated T...just in case.
1. PROLOUGE

**Hello people! I've decided to try my hand at a Clique fanfic since I'm having an obsession with the books right now, sooo....ENJOY AND REVIEW PLEASE! **

**P.S.: I don't own any of the Clique characters from the books. I do, however, own my darling Lucy Vahn, and all her people, and most of her friends...**

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PROLOUGE: THE SENATOR'S EXIT

"Mom, that dress is _so_ _ugly_," Lucy Vahn exclaimed, as her mother held up what looked like a black trash bag. "And Uggs are _so_ out of style!" She pointed to the thick black boots that were sitting unopened next to the robe.

Mrs. Vahn, who normally didn't engage in shopping trips with her daughter, rolled her eyes at her daughter's lack of subtlety.

The store, which was a small, dark looking boutique, was like shopping hell for Lucy. The only name brands they had were Uggs, and other than that they only sold what looked like potato sacks trying to pass for dresses.

"_Lucy_, we're going to buy it anyway!" Her mother chided, sliding her credit card from her Prada bag. The wife of the CEO of a worldwide jewelry company almost as big as Tiffany's, Paula Vahn enjoyed the perks of her job as senator of New York.

"_Fine_." Lucy sulked, finding a seat on a leather couch, absentmindedly kicking at the Uggs. The store, unbelievably enough, didn't even have a VIP section! "But if you expect me to wear _that_ to school…"

"I _don't_," Paula snapped. She had had enough already. All she wanted to do was get home before…Well, before the inevitable happened.

The two of them walked purposefully out of the store when the shots came, two gunshots that pierced the busy New York noise strangely, and left Senator Vahn on the ground in a pool of dark red.

Lucy screamed, falling to her knees as she pulled out her cell phone to dial 911. "Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!"

Paula Vahn had been shot.


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**SAME OLD, SAME OLD  
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Lucy felt like her world was like a snow globe that had been violently shaken and then placed back on the shelf in disarray. She was only in middle school and yet her mother was dead, and her father, having taken the vicious shooting horribly, had moved from their Manhattan penthouse to a more stately home in Westchester, New York.

The second bullet, as her father had explained to her the day of the funeral while choking back sobs, had been meant for her, but instead her mother had taken it.

_She took a bullet for me…Holy shit that's intense_.

Lucy glanced out the window of the Escalade that was being driven by the family chauffeur, Jorge. New York suburbs were much different than the city, specifically Manhattan. Instead of brownstones, there were tract mansions, Tudors, and stately Victorian homes. Lucy sighed.

Their own house was a Victorian style home with yards of ivy stretching down the side. The driveway was long and curved around at the front to surround the bubbling fountain. At first, Lucy had thought it was unique, but soon found out that most houses in the neighborhood looked like that, and theirs was no different.

"We're here, Lucy," Jorge said. "Should I escort you?"

Lucy looked over at Jorge, sitting comfortably in the front seat. Their car was like an armored giant, complete with bullet-proof siding and windows. Jorge even carried a gun: A Browning 9mm. He was armed, and she was in danger.

"No, thanks." Lucy hopped from the car into the throng of the student body at her new school: Octavian Day SChoolaratory School. She shouldered her five hundred dollar Prada tote and stepped into the main entrance of the building, smiling as she felt the blast of warm air on her shoulders.

"A _new girl_?" Lucy turned immediately to hear who was speaking. Five girls were standing together in front of their gleaming lockers; dressed in so much designer clothing it was tacky.

"Can I help you?" She asked smoothly, fingering the fringes of her new Dolce & Gabbana denim skirt and mentally checking to make sure she hadn't smeared toothpaste on her new Kate Spade blouse.

"Um, _yeah_," One of the girls, a tall, slender girl with brownish blonde hair quipped. "You're wearing _my shirt_." She pointed to the white blouse, and Lucy almost laughed. _Seriously?_ At her old school, kids proudly wore their fashionable uniforms with heels or sneakers, but never would they argue over clothing.

"That is the _dumbest thing I have ever heard_…" Lucy laughed, snorting. "Are you _seriously_ going there?"

The girl looked at her posse uncertainly. "Did I invite you to my barbecue, _new girl_," The obvious leader continued.

Lucy rolled her eyes. She had seen this one all before. "_So why are you all up in my grill?_" She laughed again. "Was _that_ gonna be your answer?"

Students were already gathering in the halls to watch the showdown. Apparently, Lucy had just dethroned a prominent figure in their school. The other girls shifted uncomfortably. One looked Spanish with silky black hair, one was small, blonde, and looked like a workhorse, one had red hair, and was munching on a granola bar, and one looked small, modest, and, well, _kind_…

The leader of the pack flipped her hair, turning away from Lucy.

_Score one for Lucy, zero for the bitches._

"Come back anytime if you want some more," Lucy added, laughing. At her old school, _she_ had been the leader, the one who everyone was afraid of and worshipped, and she would _not_ be humiliated, no matter _where she was_. Besides, if she had any trouble, she could always call in her old friends…

The bell rang and Lucy rushed to first period, gathering her curly hair up into a ponytail and flipping out her compact mirror as she walked. Her skin, as usual, was flawless and the color of a latte. Her Dad, being Italian, had given her the silky brown curls. She smiled to herself, admiring her two rows of pearly white teeth.

It was time to show these girls who they were dealing with…


	3. Chapter 2

"This _cannot_ be happening," Massie Block whispered to her best friend, Alicia Rivera, in the girl's bathroom during first period. She checked her hair in her mirror, flipping open her new phone, then closing it again. "I mean, she didn't even fall for my _joke_!"

Alicia nodded sympathetically. "I know, I know. Who does she think she _is_?"

Massie sniffled a bit, hoping Alicia would show even more sympathy. She _loved _attention. She ruled most of OCD, and was envied by her classmates, so how could this have happened?

"Do you think she's laughing at me right now?" Massie knew it wasn't possible for a girl to gossip about her and get away with it, but she still wondered whether or not the new girl was spreading rumors about her. "What's her _name_, anyway?"

Alicia flipped through the text messages in her phone. "Lucy Vahn, a transfer from the Upper East Side of Manhattan." She was reading straight from a recent message.

_Oh, great, so she's glamorous, too?_ Massie blinked, knowing that if she said that aloud, it would show that she was weak, and she was _not weak_.

"Don't worry, Massie," Alicia smiled. "That Lucy girl is _such _a LBR."

Maybe she _was_ a Loser Beyond Repair? Except she had a sharp tongue and was quick-witted. Her clothes were fresh, possibly even more crisp and chic than Massie's. But besides that, Lucy was from _Manhattan_. Massie shuddered. _Everyone _knew that girls from Manhattan always had boyfriends, clothes, money, and _attitude_.

"Why did she transfer?" Massie forced herself to pull out of her misery. This was ridiculously embarrassing.

"Um, I'm not too sure…" Alicia looked at her phone again, but she received no messages from her sources. "Probably because she was involved in some kind of scandal."

_Somebody's been watching too much _Gossip Girl_, _Massie thought.

With a shrug, Massie pulled a bag of sour gummies from her purse and popped one into her mouth, a habit that she had acquired from her new BFF, Claire Lyons, a.k.a. the newest member of the Pretty Committee.

At that moment, Massie's three other friends scurried into the bathroom, all holding boxes of tissues. Dylan Marvil jammed the door so no one could open it, while Kristen Gregory began to fuss with Massie.

"Ohmigod, guys, we're in the secret bathroom, it doesn't matter!" Massie said, laughing at her friend's efforts.

"Oh, Massie!" Dylan showered her friend with tissues, laughing. "We came as soon as I convinced Kristen to get her lazy butt up here!"

Claire laughed loudly.

"What happened, Kristen?" Massie was irritated that one of her friends would hesitate to come assist her.

"I was worried about missing the history quiz, so…"

"_So_?" Massie snapped.

"_So…_'mgonnabebusted!"

"_What?"_ Alicia snorted.

"She had to fake a note to get out of class," Dylan explained calmly.

Massie rolled her eyes. Kristen was always worried about grades because she went to OCD on scholarship, and wasn't as rich as she let on.

"_Anyway_," Dylan said loudly. "Let's get down to the business of _you_, Massie! What do you all think of the new girl?"

Claire shifted uneasily in her seat on the counter of the bathroom. "I don't think she's _that_ bad…"

"Of course she is!" Alicia cried. "She _embarrassed _Massie!"

"Wait…" Claire paused. "How long have you been up here?"

Massie didn't plan on answering Claire's dumb, nosy question, so Alicia did it for her. "Since school started. As far as the teachers are concerned, they think we're, like, at home or something."

"_Seriously_?" Kristen asked, having recovered from her worries.

"Yup," Alicia smiled proudly. "So we can stay up here _all day_! It'll be like our very own tree fort!"

Massie rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. "We weren't _prepared _for this, Alicia."

"Exactly," She smiled. "Which is why I sent for my butler to send us some goodies!" She pulled a bag from her tote and revealed stacks of candy, bags of popcorn and chips, and a soda.

"How did you carry all this up here?" Claire laughed.

"I didn't!" Alicia exclaimed proudly. "My butler helped! Oh, wait!" She pulled out a 500 thread count blanket and spread it on the floor.

The secret bathroom was the perfect new place for the Pretty Committee to meet up because _nobody_ knew about it. Even the staff had forgotten. After Massie hired a crew to fix it up, it would probably look pretty good. But for now, the floors were slightly dusty, and it only had one working toilet and one working sink. Already, the plans for the new interior design were helping Massie forget the problem of the _new girl_, Lucy Vahn.

"Are those _Uggs_, Kristen?" She pointed to her friend's feet. "You know, I bet if the _new girl_ sees those she'll, like, spit in your face or something."

Kristen blushed. Massie was aware of her friend's financial situation, but she could _at least_ buy some _decent _stuff with whatever spending money she had.

"Maybe we should stop calling her new girl," Claire piped up. She had been quietly munching on the sours that Alicia had put out on the blanket when she decided to give some input.

"Why?" Massie challenged. Leave it to Claire to get all soft on people who attacked her friends.

"Because…because what if she's actually a _nice person_?"

The four other girls gaped at her and were silent until Dylan spoke: "_Seriously_? She totally _dissed_ Massie this morning!"

"Yes, but…"

"Enough!" Massie said. "Before we start arguing, we need to plan our revenge on this girl…_Lucy Vahn_." She glared pointedly at Claire as she spoke the name. "_Now_…what do you think we should do?"

Massie noticed Claire shrinking away from the group, and suddenly had a wonderful idea. "How about we make this a contest?"

"Ohmigod, I _love_ contests!" Alicia squealed with glee.

Massie smiled grimly. "We all submit an idea for what revenge we should give Lucy, and then I'll pick a person's name out of a hat, and we'll go with whatever idea that person has!"

The girls stared at Massie, smiling. She knew that all minds were whirling to find the best idea already, if only to win Massie's favor. "Oh, and the winner gets…two pairs of DKNY jeans!"

Massie smiled to herself upon seeing the shocked expressions of Kristen and Claire. Alicia and Dylan only yawned to themselves at this challenge, because they could buy expensive new jeans any time, but not those two.

It didn't matter, though, because Alicia wanted to come out on top, and Dylan wanted to prove that she was just as capable as anyone else of her plotting abilities.

"You ladies have one week," Massie added conspiratorially, before putting a finger to her lips to indicate secrecy and popping a sour in her mouth.

This was going to be perfect, just _perfect_.

And the best part about it?

Lucy Vahn had _no idea_.


	4. Chapter 3

**Note: Thanks to the comments I've received for this story! Yes, the plot is convoluted, but I wanted to add a twist of EXCITEMENT to an otherwise cliche Clique fanfiction. **

**~Enjoy!**

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Lucy was staring at Claire, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Was this girl telling the truth? She looked her up and down. She wasn't wearing the tacky designer clothing of Massie Block, the leader of the Pretty Committee, so she must be relatively normal, right? Instead, she was wearing plain denim skinny jeans that looked like they were from Forever 21 and a flowery yellow tank top. But this, of course, didn't mean that Claire wasn't lying.

"_Lucy I'm serious_," Claire pressed for the third time. The two of them were at the mall, and Lucy was enjoying a nice latte.

"So…Massie Block is going to pull a prank on me?" Lucy repeated the news, slurping her drink. She smiled. This was too funny, and too easy. If Massie wanted to compete against her, then she could try, but she wouldn't win. "What's it gonna be?"

"I'm not sure yet," Claire shifted in her seat. "We're having a contest to see whose idea is the best."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. This all seemed very peculiar. At her old school this wasn't how girls did things. Normally they would just confront one another, not plan some intricate scheme weeks in advance. Besides, what if Claire was lying?

Lucy took another look at Claire, who was wearing her blonde hair in a side ponytail. No, she decided, Claire was a good girl at heart and wouldn't do something like that.

"_Fine_." She paused. "What's Massie planning, then?"

"I don't know yet…none of us do. Hopefully it's not anything…_damaging_…" Claire looked away, as if she, too, had, at one time, been bullied by the infamous Massie Block.

But Lucy knew better than to let someone like _Massie_ win this war. She smiled to herself. If Massie wanted to play dirty, well then she could too. In fact, Lucy had already come up with Massie's unraveling: _gossip_. Surely a girl like Massie would care 100% about her popularity status, so spreading a rumor wouldn't be too hard. But she'd have to plan everything carefully, and timing would matter completely in this instance.

"You know what, Claire?" Lucy smiled, patting Claire's hand as she pulled out a tube of gloss and smeared it on her lips. "Why not tell Massie that I've got a little something in store for _her as well_?"

"Uh, sure, Lucy," Claire's voice quavered. "But…but Massie can be pretty conniving at times…"

"Conniving?" Lucy murmured. "How _cute_!"

She stood up, swinging her Coach purse over her shoulder. "I think that I am _way_ more grown up than Massie Block, and we'll just see about the more _mature_ girl tomorrow morning."

THE NEXT DAY

Lucy woke up bright and early the next morning with a smile on her face and a stack of party invitations in her hands. As she was driven to school, she imagined the look on Massie's face when she realized that Lucy was having a party. And, of course, the _real_ surprise would be what she planned on tricking Massie into doing the night of the party.

Stepping out of her car, Lucy handed out invitations to people with their names engraved on the envelopes in fancy calligraphy. "Party on Friday in _Manhattan! _A real, live nightclub! Don't miss it."

Lucy smiled as she saw girls squealing with delight and already making plans to set the dates on their calendars. _Oh, yes…Massie Block you are _so_ going down! _

But, wait…Lucy glanced at Massie's clique sitting in the corner of the café sulking. She marched over to them, holding the envelopes in her hand purposefully.

"Hi Massie, Dylan, Alicia, Kristen…_Kuh-laire_…"

She caught Massie smirk at her pronunciation of Claire's name. She was planning on winning the girl over _and _putting her in her place.

"I've got invitations for you all!" She waved her envelopes around. "Now, I know about your sleepover thing on Friday nights, but…but I just thought that since you all are _so grown-up_ you'd attend a _real party_ on Friday night instead."

Lucy tried not to smile when she saw Alicia gazing hungrily at the invitation with her name written on it in gold script. "So, what do you say?"

Massie hesitated, but eventually gave in. "Fine, we'll go to your party…But I hope it's _ah-mazing_ and worth my time!" She snatched her envelope from Lucy's hand and ripped it open as her lackeys followed suit.

_This is awesome. _Lucy thought to herself happily. _I've tricked the almighty Massie Block! _

The prank she was going to pull Friday night was an old Manhattan classic, which she had learned from her cousins long ago: write a different address on the invitation of the person you hate, and then watch everything go smoothly. Of course, just in case Massie conspired with her friends, Lucy had written the same fake addresses on all five of their invites, hoping that they would ride together or something. _That_ would teach Massie not to mess with her!

Although she didn't realize it, Lucy Vahn was just like her late mother: Paula. Full of resolve and highly social, the senator had always thrown parties if only to socialize and win votes. And now, Lucy was doing the same thing just to humiliate Massie. She didn't necessarily want to be _popular_ or _dethrone_ the Queen Bee Massie Block, she just wanted to put her in her place and be done with her, to humble her a little bit.

But Paula Vahn had been trying to do the same thing only hours before her death…and look where she ended up….


	5. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I admit that girls who go to OCD rarely have to deal with paid killers, but Lucy is, obviously, DIFFERENT. Please comment on this chapter, which is really added just to clarify Paula's death....**

**~Enjoy!**

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**Charlie Daumier was a precise man. At exactly twelve o'clock noon Paula Vahn had been shot, and at exactly one o'clock Charlie had received the news, just as he had planned. The assassin had already disappeared, leaving no clues to his whereabouts, only taking the money and leaving, just as Daumier wanted.

Paula Vahn had been a nuisance to Daumier's career, and he had wanted her dead. And, on a whim, he had decided that he wanted her daughter dead as well, if only to seal the deal.

But her daughter had lived. _Of course she had._ Daumier himself knew that Lucy was a strong-willed girl, but that she always happened to be in the right place at the right time. In this case, she had been standing mere inches away from her mother, and had lived.

But it wasn't _his _fault. It was the fault of the assassin, and that was why Daumier had set up a bomb on his plane. Smiling to himself, Daumier took a sip of his champagne, then another drag of his cigar. In exactly ten minutes he would be called downstairs to go to lunch with a very rich business partner to discuss options for the death of Lucy Vahn. She _deserved_ to do, Daumier reasoned, because she had seen the shooting herself. Even if she didn't remember, Daumier knew that somewhere in her subconscious, the girl had stored a photograph of the assassin, and of Charlie Daumier himself.

How did he know this?

Because he had been standing right next to the assassin when he fired the rifle, and had seen Lucy's strange brown eyes drift over the building and then lock on his face. But, one might reason, that from a distance of over fifty feet, Lucy couldn't have possibly _seen_ Daumier.

But she _had_. He _knew _she had! She had spoken with him at parties before the incident, and she always adopted a cold attitude towards him. She knew very well that he was the head of an organization that took care of business for people, specifically business that involved hired murders. And she _knew_, he was sure of it, that he hated her mother. Not because she was black, or because she was a woman, but because she had beaten him for the Senator's seat, and he had wanted it.

_And when Charlie Daumier wanted something….he got what he wanted._

Daumier pulled a shiny iPhone from his pocket, dialed a number, and then spoke with his rough voice into the mouthpiece:

"Send my car around…Friday night I want that girl _dead_…"


End file.
